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by Norman
Rated: E · Poetry · Children's · #2239571
She practiced it both day and night
She huffed and puffed with all her might.
She tried to keep her lips real tight.
She practiced it both day and night.
But she just couldn’t whistle.

Her dad could whistle any song.
His tweet would sound both soft and strong.
She’d heard him whistle for so long.
But she just couldn’t whistle.

And since the girl was almost eight,
she thought she shouldn’t have to wait.
Already it had been too late.
But she just couldn’t whistle.

Her dad had tried to help her out.
He told her not to cry or pout.
He trusted her without a doubt.
But she just couldn’t whistle.

He knew that this was such a trial.
Her teeth would grow back in a while.
Then she would have a perfect smile.
But she just couldn’t whistle.

One day those teeth will fill her face.
They’ll grow in that big empty space.
But ‘til they take their rightful place,
she’ll simply have to hum.

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